Les Amoureux
by Lleian
Summary: One-shot on an unlikely pairing. Their final rendezvous and their parting.


Disclaimer- Everything is Mrs. Rowling's.

**Les Amoureux **

She crossed the deserted street in front of the mill, her severely high heels making her ankles twinge with pain. She rapped loudly on the door of the small, dark house. She brushed her hair out of her face and tugged at her blouse as she heard someone within coming to answer her knock.

She was standing there, poised except for her quivering smile and brightly anxious eyes, her purse clutched in front of her, when he pulled the door open, a newspaper tucked under his elbow.

"Miss Evans?" Severus Snape asked, opening the door a little further.

She ran her eyes over his length. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans, a buttoned-up shirt, and socks, his black hair falling in his eyes. "Severus," she whispered breathlessly.

"Petunia," he said more familiarly. "Come in."

Petunia had never been his house before, indeed, she had never been in _any_ Spinner's End house before. The room was of average size, but unaccountably dark, the windows heavily curtained. The furniture was of mahogany and black leather, a green and silver coverlet draped over the back of the sofa. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls and were crammed with books.

"Do you read?" she asked lightly, wryly.

Severus watched her walk across to the sofa, where she only stood, gazing around her gloomy surroundings. She was as flawlessly groomed as ever. Her blonde hair fell to shoulders perfectly and her nails and make-up were immaculate. She tossed her purse down on a table, sighing.

Severus shut the door after her, blocking out any light from the noontime sun that may have streamed in otherwise. She ran a finger along the spines of a shelf of books, glancing at the unfamiliar titles carelessly.

"Can I get you anything?" he inquired, trying to be an attentive host. He dropped his newspaper next to her purse and sat in an armchair as she sat across from him on the sofa. He waited for her to speak first.

She smoothed her knee-length skirt and stared around interestedly for a moment longer. "You should bring some light into this room…maybe a ceiling light. It is so very, very dark in here."

"I am accustomed to the dark. When I am at Hogwarts I work and live in the dungeons."

Petunia wrinkled her nose at the thought of a dungeon, but politely queried, "You work at Hogwarts now?"

"Yes, I am a teacher. I teach potions. It isn't the job I wanted, but it pays and Dumbledore…" he trailed off, knowing she would never understand.

"Lily never said. She always talked about Harry, her boy, and James. She told me incessantly about that Dumbledore and some woman called Bathilda and Sirius, all sorts of people I did not care about, but never about you."

Severus flushed. "I did not get the job until after…after the, the…incident."

"Oh," Petunia said. "Well, it has been seven years, I suppose. I often forget. Harry is eight now and I am doing my best, but things keep happening around him. Good Lord, I'm scared of him. And Vernon is worse, thinking to stop the boy from being what he is, but he can't."

"Once he gets to Hogwarts and learns to control his magic it will be better."

"No, you don't understand. He is not going to Hogwarts, ever. Vernon and I…we cannot let him. We want him to just be _normal_. Like my Dudley."

"Harry will never be like Dud-whatever!" Snape snapped. "You knew he would be different when you took him in. You can't deny him his education. He needs it!"

"Let's not fight, Severus, for this may be the last time we ever see each other."

"What?"

She smiled at him and stood. Walking to stand beside him, she sat on his armrest, wrapping an arm about his shoulder. "Remember the night before I got married to Vernon. I came to see you."

Severus grinned, grasping her soft hand. "Yes, you knocked on my door at midnight. You had driven two hours in your nightgown to see me."

She laughed. "Stupid, wasn't I? I knew it then and I know it now, but still I am here after – what has it been? – three years. Three years since we were together last. That was at Christmastime."

"If you would have married me instead of Dursley, we would not have to have these discreet, rare meetings. We could be together anytime, openly."

"I love Vernon," she stated simply, kicking her heels off with two loud _thumps._

"Then what do you call what me and you have?" he asked, pulling her into his lap.

"Oh, love, too, I suppose…" she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him fiercely. "Yes, love and a bit of adrenaline and a great deal of passion, I think."

Severus wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him tightly, smelling her floral scent. She bent to kiss his neck and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, touching his chest lightly, kissing his collarbone, nipping at his throat. He sighed, running a finger down her spine under her shirt.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too."

"But I have to go, now. My family might notice I'm missing."

She rose and he mimicked her, both of them redressing, picking up their clothes which had been discarded on the floor a few hours earlier. She patted her hair, checked her make-up with the compact in her purse, and stepped back into her heels, her ankles protesting.

"See you in another three years?" Severus asked, a pathetic joke.

Petunia shook her head. "I don't think so. This has to stop. So we can both move on. I have a family to raise and you – and you – "

"Have nothing," he supplied bluntly.

"You don't understand." She said desperately. "All these…these… rendezvous are doing is breaking our hearts even more. Some time and distance will heal all. We'll both forget soon enough. We both have things to do. Dudley…"

"You're right. I need to…I have to grade some essays. Bye."

"Oh, don't be so cold…this is for the best. I love you, I always will."

Severus did not reply, instead he began looking around for a quill and a bottle of ink and perhaps a glass of whiskey. He did not meet her eyes as she stood there, hand on the doorknob, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"Farewell," she breathed, and slipped out the door, crossed the street, and climbed in her car. She turned the key in the ignition, put it in gear, and drove off, her last time at Spinner's End. She watched the mill chimney disappear in her rearview mirror and headed for the highway, thinking about what to have for dinner.

Severus found the essays, a quill, and some ink and sat in the living room in his armchair, the papers propped on his knees as he distributed "Poors" and "Trolls". A bottle of whiskey sat next to him, depleting rapidly.

A tear clung to his eyelashes; he blinked and it dropped onto the paper he was supposed to be reading. He marked it with a "T" and moved on.

He took another swig of the drink, trying to wash away her taste and forget his pain and bitterness.

Vernon returned home around six, just as Petunia finished supper, and had put the boys up to the table. He fell into his seat, sniffing at the aroma emanating from the kitchen.

"Excellent," he said as she put a plate of ham and potatoes before him. "How was your day, sweet? What did you do?"

"Oh, nothing, the same old," she said vaguely. "What about you?"

He patted his wife's hand. "Good, good, we had a meeting…"

Petunia did not hear him. She saw Severus in her mind and heard his voice. The warmth they had shared and the coldness they had parted with sent a shot of ice to her heart. She rubbed her chest where she could feel the pain culminating, but she did not, could not, regret her decision.


End file.
